![]() Waves crashed into the beach just down the hill, and carnival music tinkled at top volume. The fire department was setting off the fireworks on a dock that couldn’t have been more than two hundred yards down the beach from where we stood, and I felt the boom of each one vibrate in the sand under my feet. I’d enrolled in one summer school course-chemistry-and had every intention of letting Patch monopolize the rest of my free time. I was celebrating two months of sun, sand, and plenty of exclusive time with Patch. It was late June, and Maine was jumping into summer with both feet, celebrating the beginning of two months of sun, sand, and tourists with deep pockets. Overhead, fireworks lit up the night sky, raining streams of color into the Atlantic. His smile was sexy and warned of trouble, but I’d made up my mind that not all trouble was bad. The color of his hair gave midnight a run for its money, with eyes to match. ![]() ![]() He stood two inches over six feet tall and had a lean, athletic build that even loose-fit jeans and a T-shirt couldn’t conceal. PATCH WAS STANDING BEHIND ME, HIS HANDS on my hips, his body relaxed. ![]()
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